


Earth Reclaimed

by fenfyre (Jace)



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Blood, Body Horror, Gore, M/M, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-25
Updated: 2017-11-28
Packaged: 2019-02-06 20:21:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12825339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jace/pseuds/fenfyre
Summary: a collection of short ficlets and character studies about the angsty dads~Not for the first time the soldier wonders where the Reaper goes when he merges with the darkness. He wonders if it’s awful there.





	1. True North

It had been hours since the sun had dipped behind the jagged silhouette of the buildings surrounding the old factory, the last few rays of warm oranges and reds reflecting off the broken glass and setting the city on fire for minutes before immersing it in a thick darkness only disrupted by the sickly, yellow glow of the street lights far below.  
She shivered, pulled her coat tighter against the creeping cold and adjusted her seat on the dusty, bare floor, right where she’d plopped down in the middle of the wide open room after watching the sunset. It would take another few hours until they could be sure the ambassador and his family were fast asleep, until they could start their mission.  
  
The clack of her fingernails against the concrete floor echoed through the empty hall and she repeated the motion, slow, slower, before gradually speeding up again.  
There was a subtle noise from the darkest corner of the hall, hidden away from the moonlight falling through the open window, like a restless bird rustling his feathers in annoyance.  
She stopped the tapping.  
  
Instead she raised up her palm after another stretch of stringy silence, projecting a screen that bathed her face in a soft, purple hue. First she went over the intel again, scrolling down the reports and flipping through the profiles of their targets with her free hand. She knew all this. They’d gone over it during the briefing and again on their journey. Here and there she’d added some information herself, filled in a few blanks.  
None of it was too surprising but then again she hadn’t dug very deep. There was bound to be dirt still buried beneath all the charities and awards and honourable mentions but a small fish as this wasn’t worth the effort. Besides, she’d actually have to do her job sometimes, to avoid anyone getting suspicious.  
  
Another impatient rustle but she ignored it for now, instead flipping over to a folder containing some of her pet projects, research that still needed to be done. Maybe she could…  
“Sombra”, came the rough grumble of her companion and she rolled her eyes, flicking off the screen with a huff.  
  
It took a while for her eyes to get used to the darkness and while they did she took her time slowly stretching her arms above her head before climbing to her feet and dusting off her pants. Another few hours in the cold darkness, she might as well entertain herself. And if the glow of her screen was too treacherous she’d have to improvise and go analogue instead.  
Blinking a few times she started to make out his shape, leaning still and silent against the wall, hiding in the shadows like he was just waiting for the cue to his dramatic reveal.  
With an amused huff she started sauntering over towards him.  
  
“You know, Gabe”, she chattered and came to lean against the wall next to him, crossing her arms and ankles as she settled in. “Considering how high security and hush-hush the whole ordeal was, you really shouldn’t have let your guests take any home videos.”  
A slight tilt of his head was all the reaction she got, the change in angle making a tiny sliver of moonlight reflect off the scratched surface of his mask.  
“I mean yeah, the quality is bad but … it’s really about privacy, right? Don’t wanna risk sharing something that … intimate with the whole world.”  
That didn’t even earn her the slightest bit of a reaction anymore and she pursed her lips, looked at him for a long moment.  
  
Then she gave a casual shrug.  
“I mean, not that you have anything to worry about. Your suit looked great, spot on, really. But you shouldn’t have let him wear white, made him look kinda pale, didn’t you think so?”  
An exhale, quick and heavy. Then he settled back against the wall and looked away from her. She grinned, raised a hand to tap a finger against her chin.  
“Also I didn’t peg you for the type to write your own vows, so that was a nice surprise! Be honest, it was his idea, wasn’t it?”  
A quiet rustle as he shifted subtly, shoulders hunching up the slightest bit before dropping. Interesting.  
  
The video of the ceremony had actually been beautiful, no matter how wonky the camera work and how distracting the man sobbing sentimentally right next to it.  
Morrison had looked like a proper boyscout, pretty and preened, standing tall and proud as he delivered his expertly crafted vows while Gabe stared at him like he’d hung the damn moon, his own shorter and a little more clumsy but honest and so heartfelt her chest had ached for the man the Reaper had once been a lifetime ago.  
Maybe that was the reason she did this. To try and find a spark, a single trace of what once had been in the empty shell she’d come to know.  
  
“That’s why you didn’t finish him off in Egypt, wasn’t it? After all this time you still couldn’t bring yourself to kill your _True North_ ”, she quoted, voice the sweetest venom as she grinned up at him.  
His clawed hand slammed into the wall right next to her head, making her jump as he leaned close. There was deep red glowing behind the mask and she stared right back at him.  
“Shut. Up”, he spat, voice a dark growl as he lingered for another moment before melting away again and settling back against the wall like nothing had happened.  
  
She smirked, gave a low hum.  
“Alright, alright. I’ll let you sulk in peace, big guy.”  
With that she skipped away, over towards the shattered glass front of the factory building. Pulling her coat tight once again she braved the cold night breeze and looked up at the crescent moon. Maybe it was true and after all the years of bitter loneliness and dangerous experimentation there wasn’t a sliver of humanity left in his dark soul.  
But if there was she wanted to know. Knowledge was power, after all.


	2. Afterglow

The crack is sickening, a disgusting blend of splintering metal and the organic ripping of flesh, of skin and muscle.  
He doesn’t hesitate, doesn’t give his weakened opponent even a second to again balance or figure out how to fight back. The heavy, blunt end of the soldier’s pulse rifle comes down again on the armoured plate fused into the Reaper’s back, right where it’s connecting the space between wide shoulder blades – if there’s even a resemblance of these anatomical structures left.  
  
There’s another crack as the edge breaks off, weakened by the soldier’s prolonged fire, to reveal ashen skin that’s warping and shifting, running dark with blood. Too dark, strangely gelatinous as it gushes out of the wound.  
He tries knocking it loose once again before throwing the rifle aside and grabbing the sharp, protruding edges with both hands instead, yanking hard while bringing down his weight against the small of the Reaper’s back, pressing him into the ground and keeping him from thrashing too much.  
  
The creature doesn’t sound pained and even the blind fury ebbed away by now, made room for a flighty, desperate sort of panic, that shows in quick, irregular breaths, desperate snarls and fluttery, nervous movements.  
“I will end you”, he growls but there’s no real heat in it, nothing to back up the threat and so the soldier ignores him, manages to rip off another part of the splintering metal.  
  
It cuts through his glove and deep into his hand but he doesn’t care, shoves his fingers underneath the remaining metal parts to grab the wires connecting armour to flesh and yank them out with a wet, sickly twang.  
The Reaper sucks in a sharp breath, twitches, claws at the ground. There’s smoke pouring out from underneath his cracked mask.  
“Don’t...”, he spits, rough but with a desperate edge. The soldier feels his chest pull tighter at the single word though he doesn’t stop. He grabs the remaining part of the plate with unchanged focus, wiggles it loose before breaking it out completely.  
  
The metal hits the wet concrete with a dull clatter and before his very eyes the Reaper sags, melting to the ground as a shivering, shifting silhouette.  
Not for the first time the soldier wonders where the Reaper goes when he merges with the darkness. He wonders if it’s awful there.

 

~

 

He lets the body fall onto the waiting stretcher in the morgue, back cracking as he straightens. He knows it’s not right to involve her, to use the oath she swore against her and force her hand by dumping a dying man into her lap like this.  
If there was another way he’d have done anything to avoid coming here. But there isn’t. She’s still his only hope.  
“Fix him”, he mumbles when she doesn’t say anything, just looks at him incredulously over the smoking body between them.  
  
“Oh, du meine … Jack, what...?”, she stutters, takes a careful step closer, big eyes flicking between him and the creature.  
“I need your help. I need you to fix him.”  
She shakes her head, more incomprehension than refusal. It’s a start.  
“I … I’m not sure I _can_. We’re not exactly equipped to...”  
“You have to try, you know you do.”  
For just a second there’s a spark of something that almost looks like petulance in her eyes. Then she sighs deeply and takes a step forward, slowly, carefully reaching out to pull away the stiff leather jacket he’d wrapped around the body to keep the wounds covered.  
  
“They're ... stabilizers”, he explains haltingly as he spots her horrified expression, hears the quiet gasp. It’s not like he’s proud of what he had to do. “I removed enough to incapacitate him, not too many to make him lose his corporeal form.” She shakes her head with a deep, concerned frown.  
“How barbaric”, she mumbles but leans down to inspect the deep wounds ripped into the Reaper’s back.  
“The only way.”  
  
Minutes of tense silence tick by as she examines him, then gives a deep, regretful sigh.  
“I can't keep him here. They'll try to get him back and I can't endanger the other patients like that, you...”  
“We have one day before they notice he's gone.” It's a long shot, trying to get him home in just a single day, but it's the only chance they're ever likely to get. Angela tilts her head to the side, suspicion etched deep into the weary lines of her face.  
“How can you be so sure about that?” He holds her gaze, tries not to think about the young woman with the crooked smirk and the crushing debt he's taken on.  
“Don't ask questions you don't want answered”, he grunts instead and she squints at him, not convinced in the least.  
  
“Jack.” Her voice is firm, assertive, and he realizes it's less her being unable to handle the truth than him not wanting to admit it. “What. Did you. Do?”  
He grinds his teeth, looks down at the unconscious silhouette shifting and wafting between them. They don't have time for this.  
  
“Don't make me beg you”, he rasps and there must be something in his voice, something that makes her expression soften and her head drop forward, hands slowly rising up to massage her temples.  
“Twelve hours”, she breathes finally and the tightness in his chest eases at least a little bit. “Then I want him gone. And don't get your hopes up, I don’t even think he’s technically human anymore.”  
“You fixed worse.”  
  
The words are dry and don't get him more than an irritated huff before she turns away. As he tries to fall into step next to her she whirls around again.  
“No”, she hisses, no room for discussion. “You stay here. Let me work.” He has half a mind to protest but her steely gaze changes that very quickly and he gives a slow nod instead, watching her eyes soften around the corners.  
“There's a coffee machine in the nurse's office upstairs, tell them I sent you.”  
With that she turns away again and starts wheeling the stretcher towards the elevator, leaving him with nothing but this thoughts to keep him company for twelve long hours.

**Author's Note:**

> Also posted on my tumblr: [fenfyre](https://fenfyre.tumblr.com/)


End file.
